


a verb in perfect view

by wanderinghooves



Series: Though Many the Miles [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Adult Content, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Future Fic, Katara (Avatar)-centric, POV Female Character, Porn with Feelings, Reunion Sex, adult characters, i just think tokki could be fun, katara and aang finally do the dang thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:02:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24697264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderinghooves/pseuds/wanderinghooves
Summary: Katara thinks the past year has been more than enough of a wait.Bonus chapter where Aang and Katara have a more intimate continuation of their reunion.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), implied Toph/Sokka/Suki
Series: Though Many the Miles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1785508
Comments: 4
Kudos: 109





	a verb in perfect view

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SweetAvidyaJones](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetAvidyaJones/gifts).



> Inspiration: Movement by Hozier
> 
> I cannot, in fact, just leave well enough alone.

The sun has fully melted into darkness beyond the horizon when Katara makes a move.

She pulls her face away from Aang’s, ending the last in the evening’s lengthy series of kisses. His brow furrows at the lost contact, eyes sliding open to search hers. 

“Hmm?”

She gazes back at him with an expression turned heavy and dark. Her hand moves to skim along the edge of his jaw and he tilts his head into her touch, curious of her intentions.

The warmth that’s lingered in her stomach since this morning has grown into something blazing; Aang’s touch kindling to a wildfire. Waves of heat swell inside of her chest like tongues of flame.

She speaks quietly, jealously, like she’s afraid something in this empty garden might hear.

“I need you.”

Aang lifts a hand to cover hers, resting against his cheek. 

“I’m here, Katara. I’m not leaving.”

She narrows her eyes at him in fierce emphasis; it is the most imperative thing in the world that he understands this.

_“Aang.”_

Now she feels the flush of warmth rise beneath her touch. He glances down, releasing a single slow, desperately measured breath. 

“Oh.”

When he meets her eyes again she’s taken aback by the intensity that looms beneath the surface, consciously contained.

He removes his hand from hers as if it is a Herculean task.

“Not here.”

Katara grins despite herself.

 _“Not_ here.”

* * * * *

Her hand is back in his as they all but run through the darkened streets, sounds of the celebration rising faintly in the distance.

Katara’s heart is pounding with anticipation, exhilaration. 

This reminds her so much of their covert meetings many months ago, back before he’d left. On those nights they’d slip from their beds (no matter they be in South Pole lodges, camping tents, or Fire Nation guesthouses) to rendezvous under cover of darkness, just the two of them. They’d steal away somewhere private where they could sit, pressed together, and revel in each other’s uninterrupted presence. Hours could be spent this way, talking fervently about the past, the _future._ On some occasions they might even practice bending together, lingering at a river, a pond, an ice floe as they experimented in combining techniques of water and air into something of their own.

In even rarer instances they’d venture into exploring each other, all nervous hands and halting breaths as they’d played at some juvenile semblance of intimacy. 

Katara is not playing now.

In her periphery she can see light wink off of Aang’s face as they pass the lanterns dotting the edges of the street. The fleeting glints highlight the edges of his features; she still marvels at how sharp they’ve become, how much he’s changed. 

The previously distant sounds of festivities have grown much louder until suddenly they find themselves at the edge of the plaza. Though night has fallen the crowd does not appear to have significantly diminished, large groups of people still congregating at a series of long tables or dancing atop a central stage. Braziers have been lit along the perimeter of the plaza, long red-and-gold ribbons tethered into a border between them.

Aang pulls her furtively along the back edge of this border, determined to remain uninterrupted in their pursuit. She trails him with equal stealth.

They’ve nearly succeeded in circumnavigating the gathering when the barrier suddenly ends, the ensuing gap allowing for the span of a tall, ornate bar counter, attended by a regal-looking woman. 

Katara nearly crashes into Aang as he abruptly stops, hanging back to ensure that the coast is clear. The bartender appears to be engaged in deep conversation with a couple on the other side of the counter; Aang crouches and nods forward. Katara scuttles past the obstacle undetected and he quickly joins her.

Once they’ve successfully concealed themselves behind an adjoining tapestry, she meets his eyes and barely contains a laugh as he cracks a triumphant smile; it’s just like old times.

He moves to push forward when she notices movement out of the corner of her eye. 

There’s a bench tucked away behind the bar that she’d previously missed. There, sitting amongst a plethora of empty glasses, she spots several familiar faces. 

Suki’s giggling quietly into a martini glass while she’s seated firmly in Sokka’s lap, her free arm wrapped around Toph’s neck. Sokka continues to murmur what Katara suspects must be terrible alcohol-related puns as he pushes a few stray strands of hair out of Suki’s face. Toph simultaneously drains what appears to be at least her tenth fire whiskey before promptly planting a firm kiss on Suki’s cheek.

Suki seems to catch Katara’s gaze from afar as she surfaces from her drink; her eyes flit to Aang, and she offers Katara a rather salacious wink.

Katara rolls her eyes and turns back to Aang, her face red. He’s caught sight of their indisposed friends as well and lets out a quiet huff of amusement as he ushers her forward once more. 

She takes the lead upon their escape from the plaza as he whispers urgently to her.

“How much _further?”_

Steering him around a corner, she throws him a teasing glance.

“Isn’t patience some sort of Air Nomad virtue?”

* * * * *

Katara’s fingers fumble and hesitate as she attempts to undo the closure to her dress, intensely aware of how alone they are now, how there are no longer any obstacles.

Aang seems to pick up on her errant movements and slides a finger against her jaw, turning her to face his position at the other side of the bed. She’d left the bay doors to her guestroom’s balcony ajar earlier that afternoon, and now moonlight streams in to illuminate the concern that crosses his expression.

“If you don’t want to anymore, we don’t have to- ”

She kicks herself inwardly; her body feels like such a live wire right now that she can’t help the shakiness in her actions. She fixes him with a hard, blazing look.

“I want to, _very much.”_

At these words, a fierceness looms in his face; he licks his lips, shutting his eyes as if suppressing something. The fingers against her jaw have turned firm and Katara can feel her blood run hot.

She’s dreamed of clandestine moments like this for a year. There is no more time to waste. 

Aang moves as if to carefully draw her in to himself but she’s much faster, gathering his robes in her fists as she pulls them together. 

Her mouth meets his with a desperate, immediate forcefulness, the flames in her gut licking scorching and ruthless against the inside of her. His response is initially measured but quickly grows intense under her continued aggression, his hands sliding back to pull her hair roughly from its ties. 

Her nerves sing as he catches her lip in his teeth and then _bites._

There immediately needs to be more of him in her grasp so Katara tugs adamantly at his robes, wrenching them away from his body. Aang shrugs them off of his shoulder and then his chest is bare before her; she runs her hands slowly, hungrily across him, feeling the quickness of his pulse in his veins. He breaks the kiss to breathe harshly against her lips as her fingers trace along the lines of his stomach.

“Spirits, Katara… I...”

She’s beginning to feel like she’s got him under some sort of thrall when he slides his hands over her waist to undo the remaining fastenings of her dress- one, two, three gone. Her breath wavers audibly at his actions as he pushes the garment down and away, leaving the skin of her stomach open to the cool night air. 

Aang pauses slightly as his fingers graze her bindings- he leans back and she can see the question forming, guarded. _Yes,_ she breathes, and he pulls the fabric from her chest.

Katara shivers involuntarily at the sudden vulnerability and he presses his body to hers, breath hot against her neck as he trails kisses slowly down from her jaw. Her brows knit together, eyes closed, and she feels her pulse throb at every place his mouth touches. A hand ghosts across the bare skin of her breast.

The contact sends waves of sparks through her chest, and her own hand snaps up to hold his pressed there. He indulges her, thumbing the pad of his finger experimentally across her nipple.

She hisses at the sensation and is suddenly possessed by the intense need to have his mouth there, too; as if he can read her thoughts, he lingers one last kiss against her sternum before shifting down to rasp his tongue against her other breast. Air catches hard in her throat.

_“Ah- ”_

He brushes his mouth over her nipple once more before moving to prop himself up on his elbows, expression considering. Katara studies his face, but his gaze is suddenly far away as if pondering something intriguing. Maybe it’s a trick of the light, but she swears she can almost see a flash of electric blue cross his eyes before vanishing as quickly as it’d appeared. 

Aang stirs again after a moment, sliding an arm beneath him to stroke along her jaw with the tips of his fingers. His gaze is soft, and she presses her own palm against his cheek.

“Can I do something for you?”

She blinks slowly at him and inclines her head.

“Mmm.”

He draws his thumb gently over her bottom lip.

“Good.”

Situating himself at the end of the bed, Aang tugs at the bindings around her hips. Katara shifts to sit up slightly as they come undone, curious of his intentions. He slips the fabric away and somewhere she realizes she’s fully nude before him; despite the novelty of the situation, she feels no apprehension. 

He traces a finger along the line of her hipbone, somewhat mesmerized.

“You’re beautiful.”

She gazes down at his bowed head, her eyes half-lidded.

“So are you.”

He smiles at that, kneeling to press a kiss against the inside of her thigh. She inhales sharply at the feeling, the muscles of her stomach flexing. His breath flows hot over her skin when he speaks.

“Is that okay?”

Katara needs him to do that again right now.

“Yes, it...”

Her voice evaporates when, instead, Aang runs his tongue directly between her legs. Lightning shoots up through her spine and her nails scrabble hard against his shoulders.

"Oh my _s-"_

She glimpses his face through the fog of sensations and sees that his eyes are trained on her, dark and intent through a haze of lashes. He seems to have been encouraged by this response and laps against her once more, harder this time. 

Her hips jump instinctively in response, rolling harsh against the blankets. She gasps raggedly.

Slowly, he begins to generate a sort of rhythm, his head buried between her legs as his mouth works at her in long, ardent strokes. Her hands grip the nape of his neck like a vice, pressing him closer, as close as she can manage. 

The flames in her belly quickly reach a fever pitch, threatening to boil her from the inside out. Her throat feels afire, breath steaming as she ekes out a word.

_“Please.”_

In her compromised state Katara’s not entirely sure what it is she’s asking for but she knows she’s teetering on the knife-edge of _something,_ something brilliant and white-hot, something that will drive her mad if she doesn’t get it this instant.

What happens is he pushes his fingers into her and her nails dig into his flesh so deep she can almost feel the skin puncture, unable to control the way her head rolls back as she wrenches her jaw open like a wild animal and keens.

Dimly, she can tell that he’s murmuring something to her as his fingers pull away and then thrust back, pressing up deep, deep within her, but her cognition of anything beyond the agony of his touch is rapidly fading-

_“A-Aang-!”_

It’s all Katara can do not to howl as she comes, her voice ragged and hoarse as her vision runs white; her hands tear from his shoulders to grapple desperate fists in the blankets as her back arches up from the bed. Aang’s arm braces firmly against her stomach as her hips threaten to buck away from him, his mouth drawing out her unraveling with brutal determination. 

Every inch of her skin, every nerve ending in her body has been lit up with lightning all at once.

After seconds, minutes, hours of this impossible pleasure its acuity starts to fade and she can feel her mind start to re-enter her body, buzzing at the edges like an overloaded circuit. 

Katara’s muscles still tremble as Aang slowly rises from kneeling, moving to settle himself next to her on the bed. She shivers at his touch as he gently gathers her against him, leaning his forehead in to hers.

“I love you,” she breathes after awhile, and he presses a kiss to the top of her head. “I love you more,” he whispers back, and there’s a smile in his voice. She attempts to pull at the laces to his pants with a still-wavering grasp, but he stays her hand.

“Not so fast. Give it a bit.”

Katara huffs at his obstruction but relents nonetheless, shifting her hands to wrap around his chest as she squirms in closer to him. 

“Not _too_ long of a bit.”

She can tell he’s formulating some sort of teasing response when the silence is punctuated by several pairs of stumbling feet on the stairs outside, muffled laughter intermingling. She rolls her eyes and sighs with exasperation as she realizes that Toph must’ve brought Suki and Sokka back for an afterparty in her own adjacent guestroom. 

Tilting her face up, she can see that Aang is smirking rather impishly despite himself.

“Guess that’s out of our hands.”


End file.
